


I Don't Wanna Hurt Anymore

by offwiththeirheads



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Actor Harry, Angst, Best Friends, Famous Harry, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M, Non-Famous Louis, Past Abuse, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 01:14:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11886813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/offwiththeirheads/pseuds/offwiththeirheads
Summary: Harry walks a thin line between breaking his best friend’s heart and fighting a losing battle.





	I Don't Wanna Hurt Anymore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FallingLikeThis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis/gifts).



> This fic was written as part of an ongoing challenge. We each select random numbers and are given a specific emotion from the book 1000 Feelings For Which There Are No Names. To read the other fics written in this challenge, [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ShortFic_Challenge_For_Which_There_Is_No_Name/works), or you can find the masterpost on tumblr [here](http://lululawrence.tumblr.com/post/159679804243/1000-feelings-for-which-there-are-no-names-prompt).
> 
> My prompt this week was #994: The delight of an unexpected windfall.
> 
> Massive thanks to [Lucy](https://buildalegofort.tumblr.com/) and [Charlie](http://rainbowninja.tumblr.com/) for their incredible help and patience.
> 
> I can't thank [Tabby](http://suddenclarityharry.tumblr.com/) enough for how much she has helped me write, and encouraged me, and made writing fun for me again.
> 
>  **Note :** Please do be aware that there are mentions of past abuse and a scene that triggers an uncomfortable response.

Harry steels himself as they take their positions on set. The office is something out of a sci-fi movie. Everything is bright and pristine and feels futuristic. From where he’s seated he has a view of the city through the floor length windows.

He has rehearsed these lines multiple times over and he feels ready, yet he breathes in deeply. Eyes subtly sweeping across the room, he spots his best friend leaning against the doorjamb, legs crossed and hands clasped. For a single moment, Harry’s shoulders slump at the sight of the short man with his windswept brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Louis never fails to be on set for the first take of every movie Harry does. This time is an exception, it’s not the first day of shooting and Harry hadn’t directly told him the reason. He had simply asked Louis for his support.

As soon as the cameras start rolling, Harry’s heart drops to his stomach with a thump. He can feel the ghost shivers that run from his shoulders, down his arms. The words spill from his lips and he lets the character take over his body. The plea that tumbles from his mouth feels dirty in his head. 

He can’t take his eyes off the bearded man sitting in the chair opposite him, his co-star, Robert. Harry knows Robert is just playing his part but the authority, the sharp line of his shoulders, the thick brows and the rough fingers that tap an unsteady beat on the table feel all too familiar. Harry jolts in his seat as if an electric shock had passed through him.

Harry’s fingers shake atop his lap and he barely even notices it. His mind is whirling and his tongue is speaking a language he cannot understand under the heavy fog that begins to cover his mind. He can feel that something’s not right, he doesn’t feel right in his body, and he hopes no one else notices it. 

“Please.” Harry whispers, thickly swallowing. “I’d do anything to get my brother out. He’s too young to be selling drugs.” He hears his own words as a stutter. 

Robert hums, a throaty sound that makes Harry shudder. Robert looks around the office in thought. He stands suddenly, the wheels of the chair rolling too loudly. Harry immediately grows alert at the sudden movement despite the fact that he was expecting it. His hands clench around the arms of the chair nonetheless. 

For a moment he cannot remember if he has another line to say, everything is moving too fast. He doesn’t dare look at the crew in case he messes up the scene. He forces his gaze to stay locked on his co-star pacing back and forth with a furrowed look. Seconds later, Robert rounds the table and approaches Harry’s side. 

The moment his large hand clasps the back of Harry’s neck, Harry’s breath hitches. He forgets to breathe and just like that he knows he’s fucked it all up. His hands are trembling too visibly and his chest is heaving. He can feel it. 

A weak, guttural cry echoes in his ears before Harry realises it’s his own. He’s out of the chair and staggering off the set in seconds. His legs move fast in a flight response. The sweat is beading across his forehead and he feels dizzy. He thinks he might faint there, right in front of all his co-stars and the crew and the director and, worst of all, Louis. 

But a hand gently wraps around his forearm before he can get away and Harry gasps in shock. Upon finding familiar blue eyes, he realises it’s just Louis. _Fuck_. Louis’ witnessed what had just happened and shame courses through Harry. He can’t look Louis in the eyes. 

Harry’s desperate to disappear, to just turn invisible and not have to feel like everyone’s eyes are piercing through him. The panic is starting to claw its way up from his belly, burning his insides and soon enough he’ll have a full-blown panic attack on the floor. The thought of it has Harry tense. 

Without a word, Harry shakes off Louis’ hand and hurries as fast as his legs take him. He leaves the office they’re filming in and looks for the nearest toilet. He can hear his blood rushing loudly, and his breath catches in his throat on each inhale. 

As soon as he finds the toilet, he closes his eyes tight and tries to breathe. He tries to push away the devil in the stomach, crush it till it doesn’t exist. He’s afraid of breaking down and being found by someone he works with. He’s already embarrassed as it is. He didn’t dare check if anyone had realised what had happened, and he’s honestly relieved that he had the strength to escape before it had gotten too far.

He whispers as he counts his breaths, hands clenched by his sides. The touch on his neck is burning, and he hates that now it’s related to his co-worker somehow. Harry hadn’t ever thought that his past would resurface at some point, not in such a vivid event. He feels sick, like he’s going to throw up. He reminds himself to breathe again. He has to go back out there and he won’t be doing it anytime soon if he doesn’t get his shit together. 

The toilet door creaks and Harry’s eyes fly open in shock. Louis stands feet away from him looking out-of-breathe. 

“What the fuck.” Louis whispers. “Why’d you run away like that?” 

Harry shakes his head, trying to quell his beating heart. It isn’t doing any good for his looming panic attack. He turns away and braces himself against the sink. He stares into it, knuckles turning white from how tight he’s grasping it. He just wants this ugly feeling to dissipate. 

“Haz?” He can hear Louis’ feet shuffling. A part of him is craving being held but he doesn’t want to be touched either. “Love, what happened?” Harry dares to look when Louis stands beside him. He’s worried, cautious, brows furrowed and hands outstretched as if almost reaching out to touch him. 

“I’m sorry.” Harry’s voice cracks.

“Nothing to be sorry for, love.” Louis says. “Look at me, Haz. Come on.”

Harry turns, the backs of his eyes burning, but he blinks rapidly to get rid of the tears. His chest hurts, watching the man he has never stopped loving grow increasingly worried, thin lips curving downwards. Harry hates that he’s the reason for it. But the soft look in Louis’ eyes is comforting; everything about Louis is comforting. Harry wants to curl himself into his best friend and stay hidden. 

Louis holds out his arms and Harry is inclined to step back. He doesn’t. 

It takes him half a minute to find the courage to step into Louis’ hold. _It’s Louis_ he tells himself. _It’s okay. It’s just Louis._  

And Louis holds him gently, one hand stroking Harry’s back as he whispers that it’s okay. Harry embraces him tightly, afraid to let go, afraid to lose himself, wanting every bit of warmth and comfort Louis has to offer. He feels safe in Louis’ strong arms. His neck doesn’t burn as much but he still cries quietly.

“Tell me what happened, love.” Louis says quietly. “Take your time.” Harry wants to swallow the despair Louis feels; he wants to absorb all of it because he’s the darkness and Louis can never be that. Louis doesn’t deserve to feel an ounce of pain because he carries the light with him. He doesn’t understand why Louis lets his light near Harry, lets it touch Harry’s darkness. 

When Harry sniffs, a sob escaping his lips, Louis squeezes him once. “It’s okay. I’m right here.” 

“It wasn’t his fault.” Harry weakly responds. He fists the back of Louis’ t-shirt. Pressing his nose against Louis’ shoulder, he inhales the smell of sandalwood and lime. Harry half-smiles. Just last week Louis stated he hated lime but here he is, smelling of Harry’s favourite body wash. His smile falls just as fast as it appeared. 

“What wasn’t _whose_ fault?”

“Robert.” Harry whispers his co-star’s name as if saying it any louder would cause a domino effect. He’s thinking ridiculous things. Harry grits his teeth and shakes his head. He wants to stop feeling like the world is about to fall on him. 

He waits for Louis to say something, but the only indication he’s listening is the change in his strokes. He squeezes Harry’s hip. “The scene we shot.” Harry says, trying his best to explain in a few words. He feels Louis’ chest moving beneath his own, feels the rhythm and tries to ground himself. “You’re warm.” He whispers unconsciously, blushing furiously when he realises.

A soft chuckle escapes Louis’ lips and in that moment Harry wants to hear more of it. His eyes sting and he’s pretty sure they’re swollen and red. “Which scene, love? The one you were just doing?” Harry hopes his nod suffices as an answer. “Oh.” 

Hearing Louis’ response, Harry wants to crumble. He doesn’t mind the world collapsing now, wants it crush him. He hopes it breaks his ribcage and punctures his lung or something. He doesn’t want to see Louis’ face. It’s stupid. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Louis sounds like he’s trying not to choke on his words, and Harry can’t help but run a thumb up and down his throat. Louis’ day old stubble pricks against the pad of his thumb.

“It was just a touch, Lou. It wasn’t his fault.” He’d read the script so many times and prepared for that very scene. He was never ready in the end. When Louis tries to step away from their embrace, Harry doesn’t let go. He clings like a koala, eyes squeezed tight and just praying. Louis has never hurt him though. He never will. 

“Babe, it’s not just a touch. Obviously it’d be a trigger.” Harry swallows thickly. “You had to know that when you read the script, Harry. I don’t get why you didn’t say anything to me.” 

“It’s why I asked you to be here.” Harry pulls away roughly. His hands stay fisted by his sides, not knowing what to do with them. The sudden anger that rushes through his body is shocking. “Bringing up past abuse has nothing to do with this.”

“Haz,” Louis sighs. Silence reigns for a moment as Louis worries his lips. “It’s important though. You can’t deny it.” Stubborn as ever, Harry crosses his arms over his chest and looks away from Louis. “They say dive into your fears head-first. Maybe it’ll help you right now to just acknowledge it.” 

“No!” Harry recoils at the sharpness of his own tone. He takes three steps back and his heart starts pounding at Louis’ pained expression. “Sorry. I—“ Harry brings his hands up to run through his hair, tugging at his curls. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry, Lou.” 

Louis shakes his head, carefully stepping forward, but Harry only continues to step away. He doesn’t want Louis touching him. He’s afraid of what he’ll do to Louis. “I—I have to go back.” He turns around to splash his face with cold water, letting it numb his skin for a second.

“Not like that, Haz.” Louis pleads. “You can’t do it again.” 

“Why not?” Harry bites. “I signed up for this. I’m getting it done.” The fire in his chest is hungry. He’s angry: angry with himself, his past, and this whole thing in its entirety. He wants to prove someone wrong but to whom, he doesn’t know. But he’s set on doing this scene. 

“At least talk to them.” Louis says, eyes begging. “Tell them to change it. I’m sure they’ll understand.” 

“I don’t need anyone knowing that something’s wrong with me.” His jaw tightens at the thought. “I can’t have them thinking I’m weak and broken. Besides, I can’t back out of something I signed a contract for.” 

Without a backward glance, he leaves Louis’ warmth and the safety behind him. His hands are shaking like brittle leaves in the wind but he doesn’t care. He’s filled with adrenaline. That’s what anger does: it makes him so hungry, hungry enough to swallow everything in his way till he’s exhausted. 

He’s fucking terrified, the kind that makes him want to vomit his heart. He’s ashamed and insecure when he steps into the room, afraid someone’s going to question him. Harry swallows his pride and his fear and everything that’s making him want to leap off his seat and run away. It takes everything in him to do the scene. 

They do five takes before it’s perfect. Five takes until Harry manages to tamp down his fear and just let Robert’s calloused hand caress his neck as if it were nothing. He swallows the bile that rises up his throat. It takes everything in him to hug his co-star for a scene well shot. 

When it’s done, he claims exhaustion and leaves. He can’t stay there a minute longer.

 

+

 

It’s past five in the evening and Harry hasn’t gotten off the sofa since he collapsed there after his bath. The doorbell is ringing incessantly and he simply doesn’t want to stand up. He’s quite cosy underneath the blankets with some rom-com playing on the telly he has barely paid attention to. 

When the doorbell finally ceases, he breathes a sigh of relief. That is until his phone starts vibrating on the coffee table. Groaning, Harry snakes a hand out of the blankets to pick it up. A photo of Louis grinning with his eyes crossed lights up his screen. Harry can’t help the smile that automatically slides across his lips. 

“Hey.” Louis grumbles before Harry can even greet him. “Alex and I are here, as you’ve obviously heard us knocking. Get off your lazy bum and open the door.”

Grumbling like an old man, Harry gets off the sofa and trudges towards his front door, dragging the blanket draped around him. “You have a key.” Harry says as soon as the door swings open. 

“Did you forget I have a child, H?” Louis rolls his eyes. “I lose a lot of things nowadays.”

Harry grins at the sight of Alexander. The young child has his arms wrapped around Louis’ neck, a beanie pulled down over his ears that hide his soft, brown hair. “Alex!” Harry crows with his arms open. 

Alex’s smile is contagious, bright just like his father’s. The comparison makes Harry’s chest ache. “Uncle Harry!” Alex greets back with a shout. 

Harry pulls Alex into his arms and hugs him tight. Without waiting for Louis, he twirls into his living room, the blanket falling off his shoulders. “I’ve missed you buddy.” He nuzzles his nose into the boy’s neck. He smells of baby cream. Alex giggles and pushes his face away. Harry takes off his beanie, running his fingers through Alex’s hair to tame it. “How was school today?” 

“Good.” Alex shrugs, already squirming to be put down. “Max was a bum. Didn’t let me borrow his colours.” Harry glares at Louis over Alex’s head. There’s only one person Alex would learn bad words from.

“We don’t call anyone a _bum_.” Harry tells him firmly. Alex huffs and gives up trying to get away from Harry’s grip. “I’ll get you some nice colours and then you can show it off to Max.” Alex nods excitedly at the idea. Harry peppers his face with kisses till he laughs loudly, before letting him go. He watches Alex jump onto the sofa and pick up the remote. 

When he turns around, he finds Louis watching, coat still in his arms. “That was an even worse idea, H.” Louis shakes his head as he hangs the coat. “Rubbing it in a six year old’s face? You’re evil, Styles.” 

Harry grins. “Better than calling someone names.” 

“Hush, you.” Louis punches him lightly on the shoulder. “We came over for dinner.” 

“Why is it always me with the food? I swear you’re using me now.” 

“Act wounded all you want, Haz.” Harry follows Louis into the kitchen, watches him set about pulling out the kitchen utensils. He looks right at home. “Everyone knows you make a mean pizza and that’s what we want today.” 

“Fine.” Harry sighs. “You’re helping.”

He takes out the necessary ingredients while Louis puts on an animated movie to keep Alex occupied. When he returns, the two of them set about making two large pizzas with a practised ease. Louis takes charge of rolling out the dough and Harry cuts up the tomatoes and bell peppers like a pro. He cuts up a slice of bell pepper and offers it to Louis who makes a face. 

“Not on my pizza, Haz.”

Harry grins, munching on the piece of vegetable and shakes his head. “You’re setting a bad example for your son.” 

“He’s a smart kid. He knows you’re just a health nut.” Louis huffs. He shakes his left arm out when the rolled up sleeve comes unravelled.

“He’s a growing kid. He needs his vitamins.” Harry pops in the last piece of bell pepper and steps closer, hand reaching out for Louis’ sleeve. He carefully rolls up it up, trying not to flinch when their skin grazes. 

“There.” He pats Louis’ arm. 

Louis smiles in gratitude. “Thanks, Haz.” His lips are pursed as he works, biceps flexing under the soft material of the grey shirt and Harry can’t look away. He leans against the opposite counter once he gets the oven started and watches. Louis’ back is to him, unaware and relaxed. 

They haven’t had much time to spend together lately. Louis’ always got something coming up with work or with Alex, since the end of school term is approaching, and Harry’s always on set for more than eight hours a day. 

Being around Louis allows him to breathe. In this moment, he gets to see this stress-free side of Louis, doing what he isn’t particularly good at but loves to join in anyway. Harry rubs his arms as the goose bumps prickle across his skin. His heart is going to burst from how much adoration it fills with. He’s desperate to get his hands on Louis. 

“Haz, they’re done.” He could push Louis against the counter, fingers digging into his hips, and snog him like a starved animal. He can have what he’d always wanted. 

Swallowing, Harry hums. He picks up the pot of tomato sauce and holds it out to Louis, who’s waiting with arms crossed. “I’ll spread the ingredients.” Louis steps out of the way. 

Shrugging, Harry spreads the sauce on both pizzas and waits with a tray for Louis to be done. 

Once they’ve slid the pizzas into the oven, Harry sets the timer and pulls out a bottle of wine, a 2000 Cheval Blanc. “Nice.” Louis smirks, turning it in his hands. “Last time I checked you were out of alcohol.” 

“Got it from a work thing.” Harry waves a hand in dismissal. He waits till Louis pulls out a pair of wine glasses and fills up for the both of them. 

Dinner isn’t a quiet affair at all. Alex is a ball of energy; narrating anecdotes from school that Harry’s missed all week. He catches Louis watching with a smile that cannot be hidden even as he chews on his food. 

Harry has always loved this, being surrounded by his favourite people, their brightness that fills his forlorn flat. There’s never a dull moment at his place when the Tomlinsons are over. Either it’s wrestling to get Alex into bed, or dealing with Louis’ dramatic complaints about a co-worker who just won’t stop competing with him, or fighting over which movies to marathon. Sometimes they go out, play footie at the local park, or make a trip to the town fair, or have lunch at the waffle house. It’s the smallest yet most memorable things and Harry loves being a part of that. He only wishes they could stay forever. 

“I told Dave, the tooth fairy just wears their teeth.” 

Harry falls out of his thoughts, horrified. “What?” He nearly chokes on his food. He blushes furiously when he catches Louis watching him with a knowing gaze. 

Alex huffs, thumping his leg against the chair. “You were not listening, Uncle Harry.”

“Sorry.” Harry winces in apology. “I promise I’m listening now.” 

With a deep sigh as if he were an old man, Alex recounts his tale. He’s so much like his father as he speaks, face serious and accent thick, it never fails to astound Harry. “Dave lost a tooth and his mum told him if he put it under his pillow the tooth fairy would give him a pound.” Harry bites down on a smile, gaze flickering from Louis to Alex and back. “He even showed me his money and I said-” Alex pauses to bite off a slice of his pizza and continues with his mouth full. Harry feels inclined to ask him to chew and swallow before he speaks. “The tooth fairy takes their teeth so she can wear them herself.” Alex’s sly grin reminds Harry of the times Louis would wear the same expression when he’d be up to no good.

Hearing the whole story, he’s pretty sure those kids were terrified. Alex is a minx. “And he cried.” Alex continues. There’s more, Harry realises. When he glances at Louis, he’s snickering behind a fist, eyes filled with mirth. “Ms. Jones said I shouldn’t say things like that.” Alex scoffs. “They’re all babies.” 

Harry smiles and shakes his head. He’s so fond; he’ll die of love one day. “I have to say I agree with Ms. Jones.” 

Alex narrows his eyes at him and Harry has to fight to keep a stern face. “You’re a baby then.”

Harry’s jaw drops and he looks to Louis for support. Raising his hands in surrender, Louis shrugs. “Don’t look at me.”

“Where did you hear this story from?” Harry asks as he leans forward to pick out the olives from Alex’s pizza. The kid hates them. 

“Uncle Ernie.” Alex chews on his food, content, both hands covered in grease and sauce while Harry gives Louis a look. 

“Do you see the things he’s learning? I’m honestly concerned.”

Louis kicks his leg under the table with a laugh. “I wish I had seen those kids’ faces.” Resigned, Harry kicks back.

  

Alex falls asleep halfway through _The_   _Boss Baby_ , feet tucked under Harry’s arm and head on Louis’ lap. Harry’s been nodding off for the past ten minutes and he’d really like to sink into his bed. He makes an effort to get off the sofa but Louis beats him to it with a hand on his arm. “I’ve got it.” He carefully picks up Alex and heads towards the guest room.

Yawning, Harry slides the blanket over and wraps it around himself. He switches through the channels for something suitable to watch when Louis comes back. “Anything good?” He asks as he settles into Harry’s side. 

Harry shakes his head, tossing the remote to Louis. He presses himself against Louis’ side and brings his feet to his chest. He tries to make himself as small as possible so he can just cosy up to Louis. A smile ghosts his lips when Louis casually drapes an arm over his shoulder.

“What have you been up to this week?” Harry asks in hopes of starting a conversation. He misses Louis. “I feel like as each day goes by, the less time we spend with each other.” 

He raises his gaze to meet Louis’, who’s looking back with a sleepy smile. “Hey.” Louis squeezes his shoulder. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s just been like a week or two. I’m not abandoning you.”

Harry sighs, looking away. “I know.” 

There’s a beat of silence where neither of them say anything, not for lack of trying, and Louis goes back to staring at the telly. Then he slips his hand into Harry’s, settling their hands on his lap. A tingle runs up Harry’s arm. “I went on a date.” Harry’s chest contracts upon hearing the words. _Every time_. Every fucking time he hears about Louis’ dates, he wants to dig his own fucking grave.

But he ploughs through. “Yeah? What’s he like?”

“Nice. Broad. Very gentlemanly.”

“Did he take you to some fancy Italian restaurant to woo your pants off?”

Louis lets out a breathy chuckle. “Yeah.”

Harry laughs. “ _All_ the time.”

“Shut up!” Louis nudges their hands. He lowers the telly’s volume and gets comfortable so they’re lying on top of each other. Harry likes it, likes the warm, solid feeling of Louis’ body against his. “He’s a car dealer and he loves kids. He liked talking about Alex.” Harry bites on his lower lip, frowning. “And he wants to see me again so I guess it’s a win this time.” Harry rubs circles over the tattoo on Louis’ middle and ring fingers, a neatly done 28. Football used to mean a lot to Louis back then, he still carries a reminder of his jersey number.

“That’s good. You’re getting old and you need a man.”

“I’m perfectly fine on my own, Harold.”

“If you say so.” Harry grins with mirth. He screws his face when Louis pinches his nose.

“What about you then? Find any lovely men to charm?” 

Louis’ not trying to be difficult, Harry knows that. He needs to take a second to breathe anyway. “No. I’m too unstable for that shit.” It’s the very reason he keeps his feelings for Louis under lock and key.

The moment is gone. He can feel it. Dissipating, like a flat tyre or a balloon struck by a pin. He wishes he’d just shut his damn mouth. He curls further into Louis and worries his lip. He’s so frustrated he could cry.

It’s soothing when Louis starts combing his fingers through Harry’s hair, pausing to rub at the lobe of Harry’s ear. It calms him, stills him like a baby put to sleep. “I love you, Haz. You know that right?” Harry hums. If he could stay like this forever, he would. Louis isn’t finished though. “You’re not unstable to me. You’re my Haz and I’m worried.”

“There’s nothing to be worried about.” Harry mutters sleepily. 

“Today for instance.” Harry winces. He wishes Louis would stop talking for once. “I didn’t even see you after you left the toilet and I was so fucking worried. By the time I got back to the set, they said you’d left. I came here as soon as I could once Alex was done. You mean so much to me, Harry, and sometimes—“ Louis cuts off with a choked gasp. It’s instinct for Harry to reach for him. He stretches his neck to press a kiss to Louis’ cheek, the only comfort he hopes will ease Louis. “Sometimes I’m scared I’ll lose you.”

Harry doesn’t know how to make Louis feel better about that. He can be impulsive sometimes; determined to do something when someone asks him not to, running away from his problems leaving others to worry, the list goes on. 

He once thought his past wouldn’t ever see the light of day, but then again he never thought he’d still love his best friend three years later. He has never been good at figuring things out. He can’t comfort Louis because he can’t guarantee it himself. 

So all he can plead is a broken, “Don’t.” When Louis’ fingers run over his lips, Harry kisses them. “I’m not that bad. Besides, I’m a godfather. I’m not leaving that little monster for anything in this world. I have too much to lose.” He hopes the slight movement of Louis’ face he catches in the tv light is a smile. 

“That’s good to know.”

“So…are you going to talk to me about today?” The inquiry comes after a moment of silence. Harry expected it.

“I don’t want to.” He pulls the blanket higher to cover his neck. Thinking about it, feels like there’s ghost touches over his body. He doesn’t want to think. “It was just a trigger but I’m okay now. You have to trust that, Lou.”

“Okay.” It’s hesitant but Louis presses a long kiss to his forehead and when he falls asleep minutes later, Harry knows he needs to do something. He tried therapy once and it was a disaster. He hated it. But he has to figure something out this time. He needs to stand up.

 

+

 

When he informs Louis of his plans five months later, he doesn’t take it too well. But Harry didn’t expect him to. It’s a big deal, leaving everything behind to move to Argentina, according to Louis. Harry thinks it’s just a big move. Honestly, the offer to film in Argentina couldn’t have come at a better time. He’s done with this new film, the promo and the shoots. His obligations are done.

There’s nothing left here to keep him anymore. He needs somewhere to breathe clean air, to feel like he isn’t straining against restraints every fucking second, to be a stranger whose secrets no one knows, to be away from his best friend for a while so his heart doesn’t ache everyday. He _needs_ this. That’s what he tells Louis.

They could honestly sit there for hours, nursing a beer and a bowl of crisps. Harry doesn’t care. He’s had worse. Louis’ been silent for so long, though, and it hasn’t stopped churning Harry’s stomach. 

“Are you going to be silent all day?” He finally asks.

The bottle of Corona is loosely held in one of Louis’ hand, while the other stays fisted on his knee. Alex is at his grandparents' for the weekend and Harry’s glad for that. He isn’t sure how telling a six-year-old about his move would end up. He may be a coward for not wanting to be the one to tell Alex, he’s used to it. 

With a sigh, Harry leans back in his seat and closes his eyes. “Take your time, Lou.” He whispers. The movie on the telly is a consistent background noise that Harry easily tunes out. He’s not comfortable, chest burning and fidgety but it’s all too familiar to him. He can’t fix what he has done; he’s not going to.

It feels like an eternity before Louis says anything that it startles Harry. “Alex needs you.” Placing the now empty bottle on the table, Harry tucks his feet underneath himself. He tries not to frown. He knows Louis’ using Alex to get to him. 

When Louis raises his gaze, the glassy eyes and red lips are almost enough to have Harry falling out of his seat and pulling the man into an embrace. “Fuck, Lou.” He chokes. “Don’t do this.” 

Louis’ grip on his arm is painful, nails digging into the skin of his wrist. “You can’t leave us.” Louis whispers. “We need you. What’s Alex going to do without his favourite Uncle?” He has always been Alex’s favourite Uncle and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just a constant reminder that Louis would never be Harry’s. It’s a reminder of all the years his heart has broken and bled for his best friend, and never daring to let him know. He’s never going to.

Harry doesn’t understand why they even want a broken mess like him around. Surely, they’d love to have a better, recovered version of him. Pressing a kiss to the crown of Louis’ head, he hums. “I’m sorry. I’m trying here, Lou. You have to know that.”

“But you can try _here_.” Louis pleads. “Not in some bloody foreign country where we don't know how long you’ll stay.”

“But that’s what I need.” It’s some form of punishment, he knows in his head. Staying away from Louis and the familiarity of England. He’s disrupting everything to start from scratch. And it’s not going to be easy. “You’ve always told me you’d stand beside me when I needed you to.” He’s turning the tables here and he needs it to work despite how guilty he feels. “I need you _now_ , Lou, to be strong, to support me, to know this is the right thing.” 

He winces at the sound of Louis’ muffled sobs against his chest. The wet patches of Louis’ tears turn his skin cold. “Please, Lou. I need to fix what’s broken.” 

“You’re not fucking broken.” The gust of Louis’ gruff words feels like a punch. “Don’t talk like that. You just need a bit of help every now and then, is all, and that’s okay.” 

“It hasn’t been okay for a long time and you know that.” Harry mumbles. “Trust me on this.” He tugs Louis closer till he’s sitting on Harry’s lap. Winding his arms around Louis’ waist, he continues. “I wouldn’t ever leave the two of you for long. You’re family.”

“You promise?” Louis pulls away to stare into his eyes. Piercing blue that snatches Harry’s breath away just like that. 

“I promise.” He whispers, voice thick. It’s an assurance for Louis but in a way, it’s a contract he knows he’s not going to escape the clutches of, even if he wants to.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making it to the end. I hope it's made you feel all kinds of emotions. Don't forget to leave some kudos/a comment even if it's just to say you liked the story.
> 
> I will be writing timestamps for this fic so keep an eye out, or you know, subscribe ;) 
> 
> You can reblog the [fic post](http://hazzabooween.tumblr.com/post/164521569946/i-dont-wanna-hurt-anymore-by-offwiththeirheads#notes) on tumblr :) xx


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